Great and Terrible Things
by ADay2RememberForever
Summary: In which Tira never kidnapped Pyrrha, and instead took her brother. Rated M for language, adult themes, and violence.
1. Life To Entertain

AU: Tira never kidnapped Pyrrha, and instead stole away Patroklos. How would this have changed things? This story will be very slow paced. I really like to build up to things. The only two POV's I plan on this story being in are Pyrrha's and Patroklos's. Maybe that'll change, i'm a very fickle person. There will be hints of slash later on in this, but thats not what the story focuses on. This chapter will be very short as my prologues usually are.

"Patroklos! Come here!" Tira's deceptively sweet voice rang through our small cottage. I was wary, but I started towards her room anyway. My heart was a steady thrum in my chest as I walked towards the unknown. Recently her moods had gotten more and more erratic, and I was reasonably scared. Her slightly manic happy personality was what I had become used to, and I had never really learned to deal with its frightening counterpart. There were times, yes, late at nights when Tira's voice would suddenly adopt that gravely pitch, and her eyes would lose that playful sparkle. But god, never this much. I approached the ever-locked door to Tira's room with apprehension. She was gone usually, for days at a time, returning at random hours of the day with her blood stained ring of metal, eyes wild and clothes bloody. I never asked where her annual trips were to and she probably wouldn't have elaborated anyway. Her pale skin would dissapear behind the door and hours later she would emerge looking perfectly put together. I was only ever called into her room on ocassion, and it was never for anything good. I gently pulled the door open, not wanting to set her off, and she turned to me from her bed with a wide smile.

"T-Tira...? Did you need something?" She made a gesture for me to come to her, and I settled on her bed. I could never deny Tira was beautiful. Her flawless complexion and bright eyes were always a sight to be seen. While I didn't understand what she did to obtain the outrageous colors in her hair, I still found them pretty, in a unique way.

"Patroklos, I need you to go on a little scavanger hunt for me! I have a wonderful suprise for you but first I need some things from the market."  
The village our cottage sat on the edge of was a small closely knit community. Even though Tira had been sending me there since I was small, I was never welcome. They feared Tira, and in turn came to resent me for being in her care. Coming into the town was always an altogether uncomfortable experience. Casual conversations were paused and merchants watched me with guarded stares from behind their stalls. I never had to pay for anything. Even though I offered them the money I saved up they never took it. I had come to assume it was because of threats from Tira, but none of them would speak to me other than to acknowledge my presence so I really had no idea.

"What did you need?" Another reason I hated taking things from the merchants was because I knew that no one in the village had very much money and the ridiculous extravagant things Tira demanded me to acquire probably cost a fortune. I was making these peoples lives harder, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Very simple things, Patroklos. In fact, you'll only need to stop at one shop!" He let out a small sigh of relief. It was strange, what she was asking for, but he wouldn't complain. "Run down to the seamstress and buy some traditional greek sandals and armlets. And then I need you to get something repaired for me." She held up a familiar white veiled chifton in her gauntlet clad hand, and I paled. He had only ever seen the garment once before, in the worst encounted he had ever had with Tira. He remembered it perfectly. They had been in Tira's room and she had been looking through her closet full of outlandish outfits. She had noticed the chifton under the skintight pants she liked to wear, the pair with sharp shiny metal laced in, and seemed almost suprised to see it. Her curious fixation on it had turned to anger, and I had asked who's it was. I had only asked who's it was. It didn't look like something she would wear. Such a simple question... and Tira had just snapped. Her strong hand wrapped around my small throat and squeezed until black curled at the edge of my vision. Then, as fast as she had begun, she let go. I inhaled deeply, greedily taking in as much air as I could fill my lungs with. I was certain a hand shaped bruise would cover my neck the next day. She spoke, and for the first time in my life I wasn't sure which of her personas she was speaking with. _"It was your mother's."_ Tira never spoke of my mother often, or any of my family really, but I knew what they looked like from Tira's descriptions and that they had all died in a fire.

"See here, the fabric is torn and the accessories are worn. it needs to be in perfect condition for you surprise!" She held the battered robe out to him, and he took it from her with shaking hands. "Who is this for, Tira?" It didn't look like something she would want for herself, he couldn't even imagine her in such simple attire.

"Why you, of course! Don't you want to honor your mother's memory?" She petted his long braided hair afectionately, her fingers carding through the soft strands, and he nodded gently. "I would be proud to don her robes. Were they damaged in a battle?" Tira's pink eyes stared into the blank wall behind me for a what seemed like forever and when she spoke again I realized I was no longer talking to my usual jolly caretaker.

"You could say that. I've grown tired of this conversation. Leave for the village at once, and return as soon as you are able. Come back with everything i've asked of you or I will be very displeased." She turned away from me and began running her hand along her razor sharp ring blade. I took that as my cue to leave and scurried towards the door. Tira said my name a single time as I touched the knob, and I turned to her hesitantly.

"Take care of yourself. My plans have progressed much too far to lose you now." He nodded, robe in hand, and began on his trip to the market.

AN: If you were already able to discern what Tira is attempting, cookies to you. ^-^ And if you weren't currently aware, a chifton is a flowy robe like garment. Sophitia's 1p from SoulCalibur 4 is the one mentioned here. Patroklos's hair isn't kept long for shits n' giggles. Its a plot point of sorts. This is unbeta'd, because i'm not entirely sure what purpose they serve or how one aquires such a person.


	2. Unseen Sickle

On the long winding road into town, the trees gave way to the most beautiful meadow I had ever seen in my life. It smelled of lilies and roses, and I made it tradition to rest there on my annual market trips. I've always loved flowers. Even amongst the barren trees and awful circumstance of poor land, they flourished. I wished I could be more like these flowers. It was the only place I could think of that Tira hadn't yet managed to touch with her malevolence, and I valued it more than anything. The realization that the thing I treasured most in my life was an oddly placed meadow made my existence feel that much more pathetic. I remember as a child how scary these forests were. The sun was unable to shine anywhere, save for my meadow, because of the long twisting tree branches overhead. But now I felt no fear as my feet crushed dead leaves.

As I grew closer to the opening, the familiar flowery scent washed over me, and I closed my eyes in bliss. It made me want to stay here forever. Far away from Tira and her secret plots of god knows what. A low, growl-like sound from the bushes interrupted me from my musings. I frowned. I had never seen many animals in the forest, if any at all. It sounded sort of like a wolf, but not exactly. More... unatural. While the foliage wasn't quite dead, it wasn't healthy enough to provide anything life.

"E.I.N! Did you find anything?" The booming voice came from my meadow, and my legs seemed to carry me in its direction without even being told. I peered into the clearing cautiously behind a tree, and took in a long breath. The man the voice belonged to was unlike anything I had ever seen. His skin was kissed by the sun, and his eyes were a bright blue. The clothes he wore looked to be made of a foreign leather, intricate chains lining his vest and the crest of a wolf's head embossed on his numerous belt buckles. A large crescent shaped tattoo was carved on his open chest, and I found myself wondering what it symbolized. The patches of grey amongst his dark hair vaguely reminded me of Tira, but looked much less synthetic. All the men in the town looked so average I could never even tell them apart. But this man could never be a faceless villager. He stood out. He was special. The mysterious man's head whipped in my direction, and I crouched in an attempt to make myself as small as possible. In my interest, I had never given thought to whether or not this man was dangerous. It was in moments like this I wished that I had asked Tira for some sort of weapon on my travels. She certainly had enough for the both of them.

"I noticed you long before you noticed me. You can come out from where you're hiding." I paled, and couldn't stop myself from letting out a gasp. The idea of the man being a danger to me was suddenly very real and I had no idea what to do. I looked back down the trail I had come from, and considered running. I could run fast, sure, but the path was so linear that i'd never be able to really escape the man. And even if I did, I hadn't managed to get my mother's robe repaired for Tira yet. An angry Tira was possibly just as dangerous as this stranger. Done with weighing my options, I rose to my feet and stepped through the mouth of the meadow hesitantly. Even the soothing smell of lilies did nothing to calm me now. I had then noticed the silver sword that rested in his hand, and my heartbeat unconsciously began to race. The man didn't have an expression that was menacing, or violent, or anything really. He seemed to regard me with general disinterest. Silence stretched for what seemed like hours, and words came from my mouth with nervous abandon.

"You should be wary of traveling through here. I heard an animal in the bushes, it sounded like a wolf." The man's face came to life then, and a small smile graced his lips as he chuckled to himself. Of course someone like him wouldn't be worried about silly wolves. Men like him probably didn't have to worry about anything. I then realized that I had completely forgot about the animal I had heard earlier. Where had it gone?

"I think i'll be alright. I actually wanted to warn you. The city isn't a safe place to be right now. Something's coming. Something none of you can handle. You should turn back while you're still able." I frowned. Whatever is coming couldn't be as bad as what would be waiting for him if he returned home empty handed. I turned my head towards the sky and noticed the sun that would soon give way to night. This day was becoming more and more riddled with complications.

"I-I would, but I desperately need something mended by the seamstress. In a sense, it's a m-matter of life and death." Heat rushed to my face as I began to stumble over my words. I had never been good in social situations, especially not with strangers, as the only person i've talked to on a regular basis was Tira. Even the thanks I gave to the local stall vendors came out rushed and muffled.

"Graf Dumas. Have you hear of him?" I had heard of him, from hushed whispers among those of the town, but only bits and pieces. The man whose army was sweeping the countryside, taking every settlement he found to peices on his way through. While it was something I worried about, It wasn't a very big concern of mine. Tira seemed capable enough to fend off any attacker, and I can't imagine he'd want anything with a farmer's village anyway.

"What could he possibly want with this place? There's nothing here for Graf Dumas but a sleepy town and dead forests." The man's face grew irritated as my lips passed over 'Graf Dumas.' I wanted to ask what the history there was, but I held my tongue.

"What does it matter what he wants? He's going to burn this town and everything in it. You'd be foolish to believe otherwise." Then there was no way out, was there? Die in a blaze of fire or get tore open by a ring blade drenched in madness. Or he could just... run.

"Where are you from? Whats your name?" The man looked surprised by his sudden outburst, but answered anyway.

"My name is Zwei. Where I come from is of little importance. But I am currently traveling with a military group of sorts. Schwartzwind. We intend to stop the Graf's reign of terror, ultimately." And then I saw the way out. An escape. An escape from Tira, from further destroying the lives of people who hadn't done anything, a chance at something better than this.

"Could I come?" Zwei kept his blue eyed gaze trained on me.

"An army is no place for a child. You would only get in the way-"

"Nothing can be worse than this! Please! Hear me out. I can't fight, but I can cook and clean. I'll do any work you need. I just want to escape this hell." I had realized that in my panic I had begun clutching his muscled arm. My hands were shaking, a steady vibration, and we both stared at where our skin touched. I had only had physical contact with one person as far as I could remember. Tira. And Tira's skin was always cold, like a corpse. But Zwei... he was so warm. Warmer than my bed at home and my glorius meadow baked in the sun. Zwei's eyes had something different in them now though. Like familiarity. Like he understood.

"I-I can't promise my captain will let you stay, Okay? But maybe we can get you somewhere safer than your home. Thats the best I can offer you." Maybe if he made it to a port, he could get away. Maybe travel to Asia, Maybe travel anywhere. But he'd need money. And he did have some. Back in his prison, with the psycotic monster that waited there.

"Thank you. So much! I can't make you understand how much I appreciate this. But could you wait here, for just a moment? I won't take long, there's something I need to get from home." Zwei looked apprehensive, but he nodded. I took him (and myself) by suprise, and wrapped my arms around his middle.

"Really. Thank you." My voice was soft in his chest, and his heartbeat was a slow thud.

"Yeah. No problem, kid. But could you stop doing that?" I blushed, and withdrew immediately. As much as I appreciated what he was doing for me, he was still a stranger. I glanced back at Zwei, and he nodded once in my direction. The lock on my window was broken. If I came through there, I had a chance. And if I didn't make it, I was lost anyway, wasn't I?

The road I had taken home hundreds of times seemed longer than usual. Maybe because I was running to my possible death. I hadn't quite decided yet. Leaves crunched under my feet and it was as if I could hear them right beside my head. My mother's robe felt soft under my shaking fingers. She wasn't anyone I had ever met, but I admired her greatly. She's the only person Tira has ever seemed uneasy when talking about. Tira spoke about her with a grudging respect and something else I couldn't identify. I liked to think that she was watching me, supporting me, wherever she was.

A weight unlike any other settled on my shoulders as my home (If I could even call it that anymore) came into view. This was it, in a sense. The last act of desperation i'd have to manage to have a normal life. It seemed too good to be true, and maybe it was. I carefully stepped around the numerous bird's nests in our yard toward my back window. Tira had a love for birds that was probably only exceeded by her love of murder. She had been leaving seeds scattered in our yard since I was young. The only birds that ever came were crows, though. They didn't behave like other birds I had seen either, there was probably something wrong with Tira's birdseed. They just sat there and... watched. Even now as I stepped around their homes their beedy red eyes followed my every move. It was very unsettling. My window was the only window on the house, the only detail of it at all really. Keeping people out was never a problem, as the fact that Tira stayed here was generally enough to keep intruders far away. The house hidden away from the rest of the world looked exactly as I left it, forboding and still. My heart raced quickly and I was almost shaking with nervousness, but I managed to stay silent as I edged around to the back.

I pulled at the latch on the window and it squeaked loudly. The noise made me flinch hard. I didn't think it was enough to be heard throughout the entire house, but I didn't want to take the chance. My nimble fingers pulled much more slowly this time. The noise was barely a creak and the latch came up easily. I was relieved to find that the actual window made no sounds as I pulled it up. I climbed on the windowsill and flattened my body to fit through the small opening. My window was usually above my soft bed, but I was surprised to have landed on… metal? I rolled off the foreign object onto the floor.

It was a shield, I realized upon getting up. A brilliant blue with the golden horns of an elk in the centre. It was beautiful, but so much more than that at the same time. It felt as if it was mine. I knew every curve and detail of the perfectly smooth steel, even though I was sure I had never touched it, and I could feel that it was somehow incomplete. There was a pair to this beautiful creation. And it wanted me to find it. A gift from Tira, I was sure, but why would she want me to have this? Her schemes seemed to be coming to fruition, and I wasn't certain of how much longer it would be before everything reached a climax. There was a grand finale to everything Tira did, a hidden agenda, she always had the upper hand.

_the door…_

"What? Who…?"

_the front door, Patroklos…_

It was the voice of a man. Wispy and ethereal, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My lips spoke a name I had never heard in my life. Hephaestus.

_walk to the door, Patroklos…_

But I couldn't, not with Tira here, she'd-

_she's not here… let me guide you, child of Greece…_

It was difficult to understand his words, they were loud in my head, but it was like a hundred voices at once. I walked anxiously toward the front of the house. Was Hephaestus the shield itself? Or something more? My vison blurred harshly as a headache swam through my head. I was certain I was stumbling now, but nothing could I wasn't even sure if my feet were carying me forward anymore. I could vaguely make out a sheet of paper nailed into the door, what I assumed to be one of Tira's letters. She didn't use them often, only when she would be gone an extended period of time. The loopy cursive penmanship told me her brighter persona wrote it. The red ink made me cringe, because god knows what _that_ was made of, but I read on anyway.

Patroklos, get acquainted well with your new gift. Ive gone to find its second half! Were going to have so much fun when I return! - Tira

I had to find it before she did. It was mine! It belonged to me-

_the servant of the evil sword will fail in her pursuit, my child… I've hidden the omega sword somewhere she cannot reach… you must retrieve it and destroy Soul Edge, as your mother attempted…_

"So the sword is the missing piece? And this is my mother's shield? Soul Edge? I don't understand…"

_In due time… remember your purpose, the werewolf awaits…_

"Werewolf? Do you mean Zwei? Oh god, he must be so upset with me! I should leave. Thank you… Hephaestus?" The booming voice in my head didn't respond, and I frowned. I touched wetness I felt on my upper lip, and withdrew my fingers to find blood. Nosebleed. I hoped that Hephaestus's next visit would be more pleasant. Getting to my feet quickly, I rushed back into my room. I didn't have much to my name, aside from money and few articles of clothing, so the bag I began packing was relatively light. I traced my hands slowly over the worn bedpost. This room wasn't much to look at, but it was mine. A peice of me wondered what Tira would do with this room once I was gone, but another told me that I shouldn't care. Memories, not all entirely good ones, weaved through my mind as the walls passed me by. Cold wind whipped across my face as I closed the front door behind me. I looked back at the cottage for what i'd hope to be the last time. Hugging the shield to my side, I began down the path quickly as I could. I felt free, but I knew it was never that simple.

**AN: Things are moving along, yes? I plan on making the next chapter in Pyrrha's POV, and it shall be long as hell. how do you think she'll be different? Reviews are love. Hope you enjoy!**


	3. Law Of The Earth

**Sorry for the wait. School just started. Ugh. To clarify, when Setsuka defeated Mitsurugi in combat and started Anew took up the name ****'Neve.' Enjoy!**

The two women exchanged lightning-fast blows with dulled swords, and to an outsider, they would've appeared blurs of tousled blonde hair and pale worked perfectly, silently, almost like a dance in the way their swords clashed, feather-light slashes of precision. The smaller of the two slipped, and that was all it took, she took a quick jab to her ankle and collapsed on the cherry blossom covered courtyard in a heap, looking up through narrow eyes at her teacher.

"That was fantastic, Pyrrha. But you fight like you behave. Angry and stubborn. You need to make your blows less savage. Timing and perfection are _everything." _She held a soft hand to her protégé, and Pyrrha accepted it reluctantly, being pulled up.

"I know Neve, I know. I just get so anxious when I fight you. Sometimes I wonder if your speed is even human! It just seems impossible to match-"

"And thats because i've been doing this a lot longer than you," Neve said, cutting her off. "You show amazing progress Pyrrha. Infinitely more than I did when I was your age, and thats saying something. But you need to remember you're still only a child. You act as if you're about to have some sort of ultimate showdown at midnight. Calm yourself." She took Pyrrha face into her hands, that were still soft despite years of combat, and felt her smile into them.

"Yeah, you're right. You're always right, and i'd probably be lost without you around to keep me from going insane. I think i'm done for the day. And one

of your traditional japanese dishes does sound good right now…" Neve smiled wryly.

"It does, but this old woman will need some help." And then Pyrrha grimaced, because while the food of Neve's homeland was delicious, it was also frustratingly difficult and time consuming to prepare, at least, to her. They both moved to hang their parasols on the designated rack.

"I'll get the rice." Neve said, laughing, and I could only compare the sound to the chime of bells. Neve started of towards the storeroom of the spacious house, her flower petal covered kimono billowing behind her, and even now, after living here so long, Pyrrha had to admit, the craftsmanship of this house astounded her. It was unlike anywhere else in Istanbul, or even Greece, from what little she remembered of it, and the girl wondered if all houses looked like this where her master came from. She padded her sandal-covered feet towards the kitchen lazily, absently pulling flower petals out of her hair that had fallen while she fought.

The soft boiling of water for rice filled the small room, and eased the tension out of Pyrrha's strained muscles._'You act as if you're about to have some short of ultimate showdown at midnight.' _The words lit a raging fire in her heart… So dismissive. It wasn't as if Neve didn't know. They had never discussed it, of course, as Neve was excellent at talking her way out of conversations she'd rather not have, but being a woman who shared her obsession with retribution, at least one time in her life, she had to know. She hated it too, this need for revenge, because now she wasn't pulling her blade through the air for herself, or tirelessly working towards that _perfect speed_ for herself, she was doing it for a woman she'd never met that might still kill her however hard she trained.

But she had to try, didn't she? Her mother had done the same for her, until her last breath, and she owed that to her, if nothing else. Neve could sympathize,even if her circumstances were different it was the same crime. And it required the same retribution. Her father had wanted it more than she had, in all honesty. The waning years of Rothion's life were spent in drowned poverty, disease, and anger. When he had become too sick to hammer swords into perfection, there was no way to earn money for food. Without her mother's income from the bakery, things to eat were so scarce that handouts from neighbors that respected the Alexandra family were all they had. Healers were expensive, and Rothion's illness was unyielding in it's attempts to take his life. His death had been more of a relief to Pyrrha than a loss, because nothing was worse than seeing the only person she had left waste away into nothing. They were never very close anyways, as Rothion had never been very good at showing emotion, and Pyrrha's face was a shocking reminder of her mother, or so she'd been told so many times. His last words weren't declarations of love to his daughter, or a tearful goodbye. He just reminded her of who was responsible for where they were now. _'She took everything when she left, Pyrrha. Never forget that.'_ Pyrrha still wasn't sure if he meant her mother or her killer.

She didn't stay in Greece much longer after he passed. Pyrrha considered seeking out her uncle Lucius. He had cut of all ties with Rothion after her brother and mother went missing, blaming him for both. Information on his whereabouts had been few and far between though, so she quickly gave up. She had an aunt that had went off on some sort of holy mission around the same time Sophitia had been lost, but other than grand tales of her accomplishments she proved just as difficult to track down. The greek girl wandered aimlessly for months on end, doing odd jobs in the towns she came through to get by. There was nothing that she was going towards, nothing she was going on for, and for the first time in her life, Pyrrha was _lost._

And then she met Neve. Pyrrha had never been trained in any sort of formal combat. Being such a peaceful person had its advantages, and she usually made such little impact in the places she passed through that people didn't even notice her departure. She never saw them coming. The men had surrounded her as she was leaving an inn on a cool night she was renting a room at for the month, drunk and stumbling. They had overwhelmed her easy enough, grabbing her small body with clumsy force, and she had never felt more _powerless. _And then, as soon as it had happened, it was over. Eight bodies, she remembered. Eight bodies that had been ready to disgusting things to her were lifeless on the ground, and the woman in front of her was responsible. She didn't know how to thank her for what she had did. She wasn't even sure _how_ this petite woman had managed to subdue and kill 8 men twice her size in a matter of seconds. They sat there for a long time. Pyrrha was in awe, or shock, or maybe a bit of both, and the woman, even after doing something so amazing, seemed stoically calm as ever.

Neve had been traveling in search of new parasols to fashion into weapons, apparently, and it was by chance that she came across the orphaned girl getting assaulted. Pyrrha offered any service she possibly could in response, having nothing else of value to give her. And Neve simply requested an apprentice. One could say that it was destiny that brought the two women together and Pyrrha would agree. Neve took her back to her home in Istanbul, and gave her a place to stay. She had taught Pyrrha to defend herself, she had taught Pyrrha how to be happy again, and maybe that was all she needed. Maybe she had the capability to settle for everything that Neve had given her, let the want for revenge pass and just _exist_, but it was never that simple. At least not for her.

The sudden musical chime of a bell made her look up sharply. It took her a moment to realize that the foreign sound was the greeting bell at the door. Neve had built the house in a generally secluded area, and aside from a pesky old man that lived close by, she had no neighbors. He never chimed the bell either, he just banged on the door obnoxiously until either Pyrrha or Neve answered him. She only ever heard it when she rang it herself in boredom, and a quick look out of the small kitchen window confirmed that Neve was still behind the house scavenging the storeroom for rice. Her hand found the hilt of a small kitchen knife. It was nothing that would last in a fight against a worthy opponent, but it was more than enough to handle any local thug looking for trouble. She pulled the door open, her knife cold in the fold of her kimono, and examined the visitor. She wore a long, dark cloak that did nothing to hide her ample curves. Her hair was a pretty shade of lavender, almost like the blossoms in Neve's trees, and her eyes were a soft blue. The stranger looked surprised to see Pyrrha, and then seemed to find her words, speaking in a calm voice.

"Im looking for a woman. Her name is Setsuka, from what I remember. Does she live here?"

**Did you like? The next chapter or so might be filler, just so I can establish some things, but I promise things shall pick up soon. Im not sure whose POV ****to write from next, though. Which sibling do you want more of first? I hope to make these chapters much longer in the future, but right now this is all I have the time to give. Reviews are love! See you all in a couple weeks. ^_^**


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